


Every Reunion is a Type of Heaven

by rosewiththorns



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Detroit Red Wings, Fingering, Fondling, Kissing, Locker Room Sex, M/M, Open Relationship, Oral Sex, Reunion, Scoring, Telepathic Bond, Telepathy, celebration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 19:03:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5977795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosewiththorns/pseuds/rosewiththorns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the game against Florida, Hank and Pavel celebrate their reunion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Reunion is a Type of Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains a telepathic bond. Double quotes denote words sent across that connection.

“Every parting is a form of death, as every reunion is a type of heaven.”—Tryon Edwards

Every Reunion is a Type of Heaven 

“We had a great reunion tonight.” Hank could feel Pavel’s thought streaming from Pavel’s head, which was resting against his chest as they pressed together in Pavel’s locker room cubby with Hank’s arms snaked like a belt around Pavel’s waist, holding him so close that he could inhale the cedar scent of Pavel’s favorite cologne with every breath. How he lived for these stolen moments in the locker room after all their teammates and coaches had left. 

“Two goals for you, hotshot.” Hank sent the mingled praise and teasing across their bond as he nudged along Pavel’s neck with his nose, spurred on by the aroma of Pavel’s still salty (despite the post-game shower) skin masked by the cologne that reminded Hank of the forests he had hiked in as a child in Sweden where nature belonged to everyone, and everybody loved and looked after it. Smiling as he felt Pavel shiver at the sensation of his nose traveling along the naked flesh of Pavel’s neck, Hank added, “I guess you could call that a great reunion.” 

“I scored, Z.” Pavel’s face and thought were radiant with the same wild ecstasy that he hadn’t been able to hide as he had turned to Hank to share the glee of his second goal against Florida while the arena around them, although roaring its approval, had faded into oblivion. In that moment, nothing had mattered except Pavel and the way he was looking at Hank, staring at Hank with the wide-eyed joy that sometimes broke across his face like Northern Lights in April. That look that he reserved just for Hank, because Hank knew him better than anyone else—had seen parts deep inside of him that not even Svetlana or Maria had, just as Pavel had seen inside of Hank in a way that even Emma hadn’t, because there were no words between Hank and Pavel as there were between Hank and Emma or Pavel and Svetlana or Maria—and had shared things with him that he would share with nobody else. 

Svetlana, Maria, and Emma had all seen those looks pass between Pavel and Hank. In the beginning, Svetlana had pretended to turn a blind eye to it—blinking her baby blues as if something had lodged itself in them, which perhaps explained the dampness that welled there—but eventually the dam holding the resentment inside of her had been breached, and she had divorced Pavel, taking Liza back to Russia with her. Svetlana had hated that she wasn’t enough for Pavel, failing to grasp that Pavel was never the type to be happy with just enough and was always pushing for more. 

Maria and Emma were different—or at least Hank hoped so—since they appeared to understand that Pavel and Hank needed one another and loved each other in a way that didn’t detract from their need of and love for their wives. Both Maria and Emma wanted their husbands to be happy, knew that Hank and Pavel needed one another to be truly happy, and accepted that love was different from possession, so they could love and be loved by their husbands without being the only ones their husbands loved. 

“Don’t brag,” admonished Hank through their connection, trailing rough kisses along Pavel’s neck and collarbone, and scratching Pavel with the whiskers of his beard during the process. 

“That tickles.” Pavel’s thought was a whine as laughter shuddered his body, but jolts of amusement and pleasure flowed into Hank’s mind from Pavel, and Hank could feel himself getting hard, his cock bulging against his jeans and pushing into Pavel’s denim-clad rump. He used the hands he had wrapped around Pavel’s waist to guide Pavel even closer to him, so that not even an inch separated their bodies anywhere. “I don’t want to be tickled. I want to celebrate our reunion.” 

“Hmm.” Hank was having trouble focusing on Pavel’s telepathic words rather than his body as his palms drifted upward, exploring the peaks and valleys of Pavel’s strong chest, and then found the erect outcroppings of Pavel’s nipples. Tweaking and stroking the sensitive mounds in the way Pavel found most arousing, Hank grinned at the gasps of pleasure filling Pavel’s brain but waited until he heard an audible moan before shooting a wry question that he was confident he already knew the answer to across their bond. “How do you want to celebrate, Pasha?” 

“Well, I scored.” Under his eyelashes, Pavel glanced coyly at Hank, and Hank sensed the invitation that would come next, since Pavel could never bring himself to initiate anything sexual—from kisses to all-out anal sex—between them as that seemed to be one of the manners in which he enjoyed submitting to Hank but he was never shy about hinting that he wanted a certain type of attention. “Maybe you should too, Captain.”

“That’s a good idea.” With an affectionate nip on Pavel’s neck that drew a faint yelp from Pavel’s cherry lips, Hank slid his fingers from Pavel’s nipples down to the fly of his jeans, which he unzipped unceremoniously, revealing a penis almost bursting from the briefs that struggled to encase it. “You get them once every five years or so.” 

“You’re so mean to me.” Pavel pouted as Hank tugged off his pants and then his underwear, freeing the dick that had been fighting to escape its confines. “I’ll only let you score once now and just because Coach will want to see us score in order to keep us together.” 

“I don’t think you want Coach to see this.” Snickering, Hank nudged Pavel against the wall of his cubby so that he could remove his own jeans and boxers. 

As Hank ran one palm along the substantial spheres of Pavel’s ass that he fell more in love with every time he looked at and touched them, squeezing at the firm but yielding flesh, the other wound around Pavel’s waist until it landed on Pavel’s cock and balls, which he stroked gingerly. 

“Do you think Coach will keep us together?” Pavel jerked his dick into Hank’s hand, and Hank smirked at his desperation. 

“Coach promised it would be long term.” Hank rose the rigor with which he stroked Pavel’s cock and balls, wrenching a deep-throated moan from Pavel. 

“Coaches always promise that and never keep their words.” Pavel’s dismissive snort faded into a strangled gasp as he released a load of warm semen onto Hank’s fingers. 

“Doesn’t matter if they keep their words or not.” Spreading Pavel’s butt cheeks until the pink pucker of his anus was exposed, Hank licked Pavel’s twitching hole until he was satisfied that it was well-lubricated, and then inserted one semen-soaked finger inside it. Once Pavel had relaxed around the finger, Hank added first one more slick finger and then another, scissoring them inside of Pavel until he was positive that Pavel was prepared for the grand entrance of his dick. As he pulled out his fingers, prompting a groan at the sudden emptiness from Pavel, and replaced them with his throbbing cock, he finished the thought. “We’ll always be together whether they like it or not.” 

After that, as Hank dove into Pavel until their balls smashed together, they were transported to a blissful place beyond even thought.


End file.
